The Artful Dodger
by crayonsruletheworld
Summary: The Artful Dodger meets an intriguing girl - but will their difference in class come between them?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Oliver or any of the characters from it.

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One

The Dodger was having a good day. So far, he could feel the bulk of three wallets and two wipes under his coat, and it was barely noon. He grinned, rather proud that he had done so well. He grinned again, spotting another foolish toff who wasn't keeping a close enough eye on their belongings, and began to trail her through the dirty, congested London streets.

The woman he was trailing was wearing a finely made pale green dress with white embroidery, which complemented her upright posture nicely. Her loose dark curls framed her face and her dark eyes as they cascaded down her shoulders. Of course, the Dodger could see none of this, as he was behind her. Then the woman turned down a dark, shadowy side street, which was closer to being an alley. This surprised the Dodger, and he grinned again. What a silly toff. She was entering the lower city's boarders, where there were no traps she could call, even if he took her entire handbag.

The Dodger melded himself into the shadows, and carefully reached his fingers towards her handbag . . .

Suddenly, the woman whipped around and grabbed his wrist, and said sharply, "You'd better keep away if you know what's good for you."

Silence fell as their eyes locked. She let go of his wrist, and the Dodger thought, _my, she's a pretty 'un._ Her dark eyes locked with his blue ones, and if you were looking on the scene, you would've seen a beautiful, well dressed dark haired and eyed woman, looking up at a dark haired, blue eyed young man in a dark, tattered top hat. Despite her uprightness, she only came up to the Dodger's nose.

"An' wha' if I don' know wot's good fer me?" The Dodger asked, slyly, but remained unmoving.

"Well, I know more people higher up then you do, and if I was to call the police, which I don't plan on doing, you would probably face the gallows." She said, allowing herself a stern expression, but a wry look playing with her features.

The Dodger laughed. "An' the traps and beak would all love to see me 'ang. I'm quite dangerous, I am."

The woman's lips played with a small smile, the corners turning up ever so slightly. "Well then, could I have your name, so I can tell all my friends that I ran into a dangerous criminal and lived to tell the tale?" Just as the Dodger was about to open her mouth to speak, she continued. "Not your real name, no, you would be far too clever for that. Just whatever you're known as, down here."

The Dodger matched her tone and wry smile with one of his own. "I'm Jack Dawkins, better known among me more _hintimate_ friends as the Artful Dodger."

"And mine is Sara. It's all that I'm known as, but I shall tell you something about myself then. I somehow feel that I can trust you." At this, she gave him a glance through her eyelashes, finally breaking the spell of their locked eyes. "I am part of the campaign for women's rights not only in the upper city, but mainly for down here."

For a moment, the Dodger's sly mask gave way, to genuine surprise, but not only that. He was impressed. "Really?" he asked, receiving a nod from Sara, he continued, "Some down 'ere don' like it – they're sayin' it's not right. But I think its no' a bad idea."

Sara gave him a genuine smile, revealing that she appreciated his opinion. Then she retreated back into her wry expression, and they locked eyes again. "Until we meet again, mister Dodger." She finished, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He took her hand, and replied, "Until we mee' again, Lady Sara." He took off his hat, and brought her small hand to his lips and kissed it. And as he watched her make her way back to the streets, he didn't see her smiling lips and blushing cheeks. Then he faded into the shadows, and went back into the streets.


	2. Chapter 2

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Two

After the Dodger's meeting in the alley, he couldn't focus on anything for the rest of the day. His thoughts drifted back to Sara, thinking over all their words at least a hundred times before he finally fell asleep that night. Sara had looked about eighteen, he had noticed, when he himself was only a few months from that age.

The Dodger didn't seem to see anything for the next two weeks, and only brought back pickings that were well below his known average. He had eventually snapped himself into shape, thinking, _ Why should she fall in love with you? It's no' her place. She'll marry a respectable gent – a beak, or a nobleman. _

Two weeks after his meeting with Sara, when he was walking back to his new lodging. He still thought of it as 'new', even though it had been a few years since the night with Bill Sykes. It was the same distance from the tab as their old place, but in the opposite direction. He shuddered at the memory of the night Bill Sikes died, and quickly and gladly returned to reality.

When the Dodger was about to step into the street, he saw a man restraining a struggling woman. It was well after dark, but the Dodger thought of Sara, and felt that he couldn't just leave the woman to whatever fate she would have if he didn't help her.

He doubled back the way he came, going through the dark cobblestoned streets, behind the small houses. He cut between two houses, and came out in the moonlit street just behind the man still restraining the woman, who was now muttering drunkenly to her. As soon as he had done that, he realized that he had no plan. At the age of seventeen, the fully grown man would overpower him.

Suddenly, it came to him. The Dodger pulled a hard silver case from under his coat which he had picked from the pockets of a beak earlier that day. He came up behind the man, and he, in his drunken stupor, didn't notice him. Dodger took the case, and hit the man's temple with it. He instantly crumpled to the ground, and the woman looked up and saw the Dodger.

She stared at him as he slowly made his way towards her, and she whispered, "Thank you. Thank you." before she collapsed into quiet sobs, and into his arms. For a moment the Dodger quickly devised a plan. There was no way he could take this woman back to her home tonight, it was far too late. And if he didn't return soon, the boys would become restless. He was in charge of them tonight, as Fagan was out of the city, on what he had called a "business trip". His only option was to take her to home, and bring her home in the morning.

As she slowly stopped crying, she looked up at him, and her arms fell back to her sides. Her tearstained face was still in shadow.

"It's too late fer you to go 'ome tonight. We'll set ou' in the mornin'.

"I know it's far too late to go home tonight, but I think I'll be fine on my own, thank you." She said sharply, taking a step back.

"Don' worry. The Dodger will take care of you. On my 'onour."

"The Dodger?" she asked curiously, with a hint of scepticism.

"At your service." He said. "Now, we'd best get you out of 'ere. It's late."

"Oh, thank goodness it's you!" The woman said, stepping into the light, her tone clearly emanating her relief.

The Dodger's breath caught in his throat as he suddenly recognized the face that was now no longer hidden in shadow, and also noticed for the first time, her expensive clothing.

It was Sara.

"Wha' are you doin' down 'ere – an' at _this _time o' night?" He asked incredulously.

Sara shuddered. "I was – I was at a party. That man – he's been after me to marry him. He got drunk, and dragged me out to a carriage, and told the driver to take him to his estate. I guess the driver thought we belonged down here." She looked down, and fell silent.

The Dodger felt a slow, strong burning of anger towards the man. But was suddenly sorry he asked, after seeing Sara's expression. "Come on," he said, leading her along, down the road and turning left at the bridge. "It's alright. We can' get all the way to the upper city tonight."

They walked along through the darkness, the Dodger laying a comforting arm around Sara's shoulders, as he began to notice that she was shivering, despite the warning in his mind.

When they reached the door, the Dodger simply rapped twice on the door, and called out "Dodger".

As the door opened, the Dodger noticed that Sara suddenly became nervous; she now stood slightly behind him. As one of the boys came to open the door, he turned and said quietly, "It'll be awl right." Sara nodded, and continued to stay behind him as they entered.

When the boys, all younger than Dodger, saw Sara, they called out things like "'Ey Dodger – oo's _that_?" and the room was filled with the sounds of whistles.

"Quiet, all o' ye!" barked the Dodger, and instantly the room fell silent. "Now, we'll 'ave none o' that. None of you are to lay a hand on Lady Sara, or any of her belongin's." He looked around the room, to make sure he had made himself clear, and then left off with a quiet and menacing, "Or you'll have me to reckon with."

He turned to Sara, and led her to the corner by the door, where his bed was set away from the rest of the boys beds. Most of the other boys had, at the Dodger's words, wandered away begrudgingly, but some of the others just stared at Sara over the Dodger's form in the dim room.

"It's alright, I'll keep watch," the Dodger said, somewhat affectively calming her anxious looks around the room. He turned and picked up a few extra blankets, suddenly painfully aware of just how badly off they must seem to a toff.

As the Dodger laid the blankets on the bed, and turned to hang up his coat and hat, he glanced at Sara and said, "'ere you go."

"Are you sure it's alright –" Sara hesitated, then took a step towards the bed, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Naw, it's alright," the Dodger insisted, "I don' mind, and though me ol' boys know I'm not to be reckoned with, you never know with this lot."

As he said this, Sara had sat down on the bed and climbed under the blankets, pulling them up to her shoulders. She smiled one last time at the Dodger, before whispered, "Thank you." and closed her eyes.

The Dodger waved away her thanks, and sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the small bed.

"Goo' night to you, Lady Sara." He whispered as he heard her breathing deepen as she drifted off to sleep.

When the first reaches of dawn touched the sky outside the window, the Dodger shook off all the stiffness he felt from staying awake in the same position all night. He turned to Sara, her dark hair splayed around her face beautifully as she breathed deeply in her sleep. For a moment he just looked at her, then roused her gently. "Good mornin', yer ladyship." He whispered.

Sara opened her dark eyes to find herself affronted by a pair of bright blue eyes, dancing as the Dodger spoke. For a moment, she just looked into his eyes dreamily and smiled, and then blinked rapidly. She sat up and broke eye contact as the Dodger leaned back and stood up.

"I know it's early, but I thought we'd best not wake the lads." The Dodger offered, putting on his coat and tucking his hat under his arm as he turned to sit beside Sara.

Sara nodded and stifled a yawn. She threw back the blankets that still covered her legs as the Dodger stood up, and held out a hand to help her up.

"My apologies for there bein' no breakfast an' all, but if I made anythin' it would wake 'em up." The Dodger finished quietly, unlocking the door, and stepping out into the streets of lower city London.

The Dodger laughed and talked with Sara, trying to keep both their minds off of returning to their proper places in life. As London awoke, Sara was delighted by life in the lower city.

"Oh, it's simply wonderful! I could walk here forever! I love the shopkeepers who don't care who they tip their hats to, the men who go to work while singing! Absolutely lovely." Sara smiled, turning her face up to the London sun that was shining on this rare occasion.

"It's nice, but you do have to watch yourself." The Dodger smiled back.

"It's marvellous here!" Sara exclaimed happily, refusing to be roused from her delight. "Nothing like home. Oh, I wish I could live here my whole life; I would never tire of it. It's like a holiday every day!"

"But you 'ave yer family to go back to," responded the Dodger quietly, "and yer campaign."

"My parents died years ago, leaving me in the care of my horrible, stiff great aunt. She thinks that women who show their ankles should be disowned, women should never speak their minds, or marry for love. We have to learn to love duty, above all else." She grimaced, and continued. "We should be like dolls, perfect and unthinking, unquestioning, to marry a highborn man and never think for ourselves." Sara sighed. "I suppose the campaign is the only thing I really stay for. It means more than anything to me."

It was silent for a moment, both of them thinking over what Sara had said. Then they lapsed back into trying to make themselves forget about reality, but reality came back, as it always does, but for them in the form of them coming in sight of the outer reaches of the lower city.

Sara laughed once more, a pleasant, open sound, before they stopped and looked at each other, silence falling as they stared into each other's eyes.

The Dodger took off his hat and bowed formally. "I 'ope you'll come to visit again soon, milady."

"As soon as I can," replied Sara seriously, dipping into a mock curtsey. They both laughed for a moment, and then sobered down.

"I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me, Dodger." Sara confessed, looking up at him through dark eyelashes.

The Dodger was quiet. "I 'ope you can join me on another 'oliday soon, Sara."

Sara's heart thudded as she smiled. "I do as well."

The Dodger winked. "I'll 'old you to your word." And then he faded into the shadows.

"Oh Dodger?" Sara called teasingly.

"Yes?" asked the Dodger, grinning as he reappeared. "Anythin' I can do for you?"

Sara pulled a ten pound note out of an invisible pocket within the folds of her skirt. "I know that Fagin will have wanted you to take everything I may have had when he hears you had an upper-city with you, and I also know I've wasted half your morning, when there are open pockets out there."

As the Dodger opened his mouth to protest, Sara responded with a wink and handed him the note.

As she walked down the alleyway without looking back, she smiled, feeling as if she had known the Dodger for years, as opposed to a single morning.


	3. Chapter 3

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Three

_Oh dear, this will be terribly dull,_ thought Sara as she stared through the crowd of men and women at the costume party. Her great aunt was the one who had done this to her – noticing Sara's mood pick up, she had told all the ladies that she had fallen in love with one of the rich men, and had thrown a masked ball so the young lovers could be together.

Man after man had asked her to dance, and she had reluctantly agreed, again and again. As another waltz began to play, Sara spotted another man striding towards her. She grimaced inwardly, and let her thoughts wander to the lower city. It had been a month since she had last seen the Dodger, and during that time she had tried to get away many times. She felt as if she were in prison, as if she couldn't escape.

Then her thoughts drifted to the Dodger. _My Dodger_, she thought, then quickly reprimanded herself. _Don't be silly! He probably already has a woman for himself, and he would never think of you in_ that _way_.

Sara felt a tap on her shoulder, and she swung around to find herself inches away from a man in a black suit.

Softly, he said "Would you like to dance?"

Sara felt something for the first time that night as she accepted, and the man took her into his arms and they began to waltz. Sara's stomach fluttered, and she felt mildly dizzy. _Who is he? _She wondered. She looked up at his mask, but he wasn't looking into her eyes. For some reason, he was scanning the crowd. After staring shyly at him for a few seconds, and realizing, sadly, that he wasn't going to notice her stares. Feeling a little safer now that she knew she wouldn't meet the strange man's eyes as he led her around the floor, she looked into his face. _Oh, he is terribly handsome. _She thought. A flash of emotion hit her as she thought of the Dodger's laughing blue eyes. _I might as well admire him, _she reprimanded herself sadly. _Dodger. . . _she blocked off her thoughts, and returned her focus to the man whose arms she was being held in. She thought it strange he wasn't speaking, as most men attempted to show her their conversation skills while dancing. Wishing to end the silence, she racked her mind for something to say.

"A pleasant party, isn't it?" Sara cringed at how silly she sounded, but if it could take her mind off the Dodger, she would do it.

He glanced at her quickly, and the sides of his mouth tugged upwards. He looked too quickly for her to really see his eyes, but his half smile gave her a foggy sense of recognition. "Yes. But 'ardly a 'oliday, is it miss?"

Sara gasped. Trying to maintain some semblance of normality, for the sake of the other partygoers, she lowered her voice. "No, I daresay it isn't. But I plan to have a holiday soon." Sara could barely breathe. Being so close, and only because of that, she noticed that his suit wasn't nearly as fine a make as the other men's were, and his hat, though clean, was old. Under the hat were dark hair and a mouth that suited a wide grin, and she knew that his mask covered the area around two bright blue eyes.

"I would like that very much." replied the Dodger, looking down at her now, turning the full force of his dancing blue eyes to her. He felt sad seeing her in her finery - an indigo dress that framed her nicely, with no mask, and her long hair bundled at the top of her head. She would never – could never - be a part of his world.

As the waltz ended, Sara wordlessly motioned for him to follow her, and led him outside of the ballroom. The Dodger closed the white double doors behind them, and turned to Sara.

"Oh, I'm so glad that you're here!" exclaimed Sara, and then she blushed and looked away. _Well, why shouldn't I be glad to see him?_ She argued with herself, and then looked up and drank in the sight of his intense blue eyes.

At that moment, the Dodger knew that it had been worth it to steal all the extra things he did and to hide them from Fagan to buy the suit he was now wearing. His grin widened, and then faltered at the thought of the last month that he had barely seen her.

"I'm sorry it's been so long," apologized Sara quietly, seeing the hint of sadness behind his eyes. "I tried to get out, but I was kept here by my aunt. And I am very glad to see you. I thought tonight would be so dull." She rushed. "But I want to run away, to get out of here. Can you help me? I would go to the lower city. I _want _to get away from here to the lower city! I don't care if I have to pick pockets for a living, it would be better then here! Some living if you can never think for yourself!" By the time she finished, Sara was speaking in a voice that was far louder than it should've been.

"What about yer campaign? It means the world to you." urged the Dodger gently, even though his heart hurt at the thought of reminding her that she couldn't run away. He knew she couldn't be happy with him. Here was where she belonged.

Sara sighed, and looked back up at him. "I know. I'm sorry." She whispered in anguish, looking down so he wouldn't see the tears she was blinking away. _He knows you belong here, and not with him_. She thought in disappointment.

"It's alright." The Dodger consoled her gently. It hurt him to see her so distraught. He took a deep breath, and looked around, then back at Sara. "I ought to be off, or Fagin and the boys will be wonderin' where I'm off to."

"Yes," Sara agreed, "I suppose they will."

As they both waited for a moment staring into each other's eyes, both of them wishing the other would kiss them, the Dodger began to turn away.

"Wait," blurted Sara, and as he turned back, she scrambled for a reason to make him stay. Finding nothing, she simply said, "I am glad you came. And I'll try to come visit as soon as I can."

The Dodger nodded, and smiled. "If you can escape from prison," he teased.

And as the Dodger left the building, Sara stayed in the hall, and sank to the floor, suddenly struck by how much she had missed him.

Out on the side, as Dodger pulled off his mask and headed towards the lower city at a brisk walk, thinking how glad he was he had missed Sara so much that he had gone to see her.


	4. Chapter 4

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Four

A well-dressed woman walked through the morning sunlit streets of the lower city. Crossing a bridge, she knocked twice on an old wooden door, and called out her name.

A few moments later, the door swung inward, and the woman stepped inside.

The Dodger returned to his lodging at noon, after spending some time with Bet on his self-awarded day off. He knocked twice on the door quickly, and called, "Dodger."

The door swung open, and the Dodger found two young faces staring up at him.

"Dodger, look what we done!" one said, puffing out his chest.

"Wot?" asked the Dodger, slightly irritated, but intrigued nonetheless.

"We've captured an imposter, we 'ave!" the other said.

"Yeah!" agreed the first. "An' we tied 'er up, too!"

As soon as the words were out of the boy's mouth, the Dodger dropped the stolen apple he had been munching on, and rushed inside, to be greeted by the sight of Sara tied to a beam and gagged, with the hem of her skirt halfway up her shins.

He quickly eased the gag out of her mouth, and asked "What have they done to you?"

"I came in the morning," Sara coughed and rasped as the Dodger pulled out a knife and quickly cut her bonds, averting his eyes from her legs. "I asked them for you, and they tied me up, though that's rather obvious at the moment."

The Dodger helped her up, and turned on the two younger boys who had realized their mistake and were quietly trying to edge their way to the door.

"If you laid so much as _one 'and_ on 'er," Dodger began menacingly.

"They didn't touch me." Sara interjected, stepping out from behind the Dodger's shielding, protective stance, and between him and the boys.

The Dodger calmed, and then reddened, and stared at the floor. Then he looked up to meet Sara's piercing eyes.

"Let's go." The Dodger said quietly, and taking Sara's hand tentatively, he led her out into the streets, leaving the boys gaping.

"Well, a day with the Dodger is wot you came for, and a day with the Dodger is wot yer going to be gettin'," He promised, smiling now that they were outside in the sun, as he tried to forget the sight of her bound and gagged.

Sara smiled. "That I did. Before I got . . . intercepted." She smiled again, teasingly.

"Well, since you're 'ere I ought to give you the tour of lower city London." Dodger grinned, bowing formally. "Though we 'ad better go an' see Bet first, so we can try to make you look a little bit less like a fine lady."

"I'm that obvious then, am I?" She asked, obviously disappointed. And then, "Who's Bet?"

"A friend of Fagin's, and all the boy's. 'Er family runs the tab, and she's married to the owner of that shop, over there." He pointed to a shop across the street as Sara inwardly sighed, relieved that she wasn't engaged to the local pickpocket. "An' you can't look like a lady down in this part of town, otherwise you could get yourself killed, you could."

"Killed?" Sara asked in astonishment.

"Yea, there's people down 'ere that really don't like people up there." He dropped the subject then, pointing and adding, "Ah, 'ere we are."

They walked into a cheery, brightly lit bar with stairs leading upstairs to the side, which they quickly went up, the Dodger leading her by the waist.

"Ay, Bet!" he called up the stairs. "I bro' a friend to see ye!"

A girl about Sara's age came into view, and ran halfway down the stairs to meet them, and she grinned widely, in a friendly way. "So, what can I do for this friend o' yours? For I daresay you brought 'er to me for something."

The Dodger grinned. "Right you are, Bet." He lowered his voice. "She's a toff –" seeing Bet's look of extreme surprise, then understanding as she examined Sara more closely. "-long story. Anyways, I was gonna give 'er the tour – could you lend 'er something to wear for the day, and try to make 'er look a bit less . . ." the Dodger gestured vaguely, as Bet laughed.

"But 'o course, anything for the pickpockets 'o London." Then she turned to Sara, and led her upstairs as they began to chat.

The Dodger went to the bottom of the stairs, and stood in the shadows, unnoticed for fifteen minutes as he heard loud laughter from the girls upstairs. _I wish I knew what's so funny._ He thought wistfully.

Sara laughed, as she tried in vain to fit into Bet's dress. It was simply too small.

"Ah, you'd be more like Nancy's size." Bet grinned wickedly, and left the room for a moment, returning with a clean, but tattered red dress. "Try this one," she grinned.

Sara, with the help of Bet, got it on. "Oh my!" Sara said, astounded, looking at herself in the mirror.

Bet and Sara laughed loudly. "Oh, if my aunt could see me now – she's the one I live with – she would positively die!" Sara's ankles were showing under the hem of the dress, where she was wearing Bet's spare boots. Sara thought about seeing people in the dress that had a collar undone far to low for her personal preference, and blushed profusely. "Can we do anything about . . . this?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to the low neckline, as she and Bet collapsed again into laughter.

After they had begun to breathe normally, Bet helped her do up the collar to somewhere Sara felt comfortable with, and they continued to laugh and talk, both cherishing thoughts of what it would have been like to grow up with a sister.

As the Dodger turned to look at the stairs as he first heard tentative footfalls at the top, his breath caught in his throat.

Sara walked all the way down the stairs, now in a deep red dress with a dark stripe across the bottom, and Dodger recognized it immediately as Nancy's old dress. It looked beautiful on Sara.

As she walked tentatively into the bar, looking around for him, the Dodger now realized, he saw the other men in the tab turn to look. All of a sudden, the air was full of the sound of whistling.

The Dodger strode up to Sara's side as she blushed angrily, and called out, "She's with me, flash mate." and immediately it was silent. Sara slipped her hand into his, and they walked back into the lower city streets.

The Dodger was walking back to Fagan's, a broad grin on his face. He and Sara had run through the lower city like children – laughing and holding hands. He smiled dreamily at the thought of her hand in his, and then remembered when she had left.

_"Thank you." Sara locked eyes with him, and smiled as both their stomachs turned. "This was one of the best days of my life, it was really wonderful." _

The Dodger sighed contentedly, and continued to walk, as he eventually realized someone was calling him. He turned around to see a panting Charlie.

"I wondered where you were so I came out 'ere to find you – where are you going?"

"To Fagin's." The Dodger responded, donning a confused expression.

"Yer distracted – its blocks back!" Charlie replied with a wicked grin. "It couldn't be by the thoughts of a certain toff I 'ear you've been spendin' more time than's good for you with?" He winked, and at the unexpected blush that appeared on the Dodger's cheeks, Charlie simply shook his head and led his best friend home.


	5. Chapter 5

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Five

Sara visited the Dodger many times in the next few months, until the snow fell lightly and it got into November. By then, she was well known by Fagan and the boys he employed, as well as a friend to Bet. One morning when all the boys had just woken up and were eating breakfast, they heard the pleasant surprise of Sara knocking twice on the door, and calling her name after the manner of the Dodger.

"Morning boys!" She cried, smiling, and took off the heavy shawl she had been wearing to stay warm, revealing a large package she had brought. "I took some freshly baked buns from the kitchen this morning, who wants some?"

All the boys rushed towards her as she handed them to the boys to share. As they began to walk away with the food, she looked up at the smiling Dodger, who had stayed back. He then walked towards her and took her hands and smiled. "I'm 'appy to see you," He said softly.

Sara blushed and looked down, biting her lip even though she was smiling widely, trying to restrain her obvious excitement. She looked up, and replied, "I came here this morning to ask you something."

"Anythin'. At your service, Lady Sara." The Dodger grinned, and released her hands.

As the boys began to bustle out the door, shooed out by Fagan, Sara replied quietly, "I'd like to come on the game with you today."

The Dodger furrowed his brows. "No," he said stoutly, "you're respectable, and you ought to stay that way."

Sara frowned, and turned around, twirling her hair around one finger, "Oh Charlie?" She walked up to Charlie, and, making sure the Dodger was watching, pulled out her best feminine wiles. She pouted her lips into a playful smile, and she looked up at him through her eyelashes, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I was wondering if you might be able to do me a favour . . ."

Charlie looked at her, astonished. He knew, as well as the other boys, (though they were too clever to say it openly) that the Dodger and Sara loved each other. He looked over her head at the Dodger, who had begun walking towards them. He looked at Sara, who had now donned a triumphant grin, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "five, four, three, two, one."

"Come on." The Dodger said gruffly. "I don't like it, and you know I don't like it, but come on. But only on one condition."

Sara turned to him, and smiled. "Thank you. Anything."

"You never, ever put what you see into practice, unless I say you can. And," he added after Sara nodded in agreement, "You have to stay a fair distance from me, if anything happens. And if anyone calls for the traps and they chase me, you have to stay away from me, and do nothing."

Sara bit her lip, but she knew that if that was what it took, she would do it. "Alright. Let's go."

It had been a good morning for the Dodger, and Sara stayed out of his pocket picking, observing unobtrusively.

Sara had stayed close enough so he had known that she was still there all day, but far enough that anyone who had seen the Dodger steal wouldn't think Sara was involved at all.

"Over there. To your left, the man looking in that window." Sara whispered stealthily.

The Dodger turned, and gave her a small nod in approval. The man was exceptionally wealthy. He saw Sara walk ahead of him, and she winked, too far ahead of him and too close to the man for him to do anything.

"John!" Sara said in fake delight, pretending to be walking by and simply catching a glimpse of the man. She turned him so that the Dodger could easily take his wallet without anyone seeing, and began to talk to the young man as if they were best friends. She asked him about his sister, and how he was doing, and by the time their conversation had ended, the man had nothing else on him that was worth stealing, except his clothes.

"Tha' was great, but I don't want you a par' o' this." Dodger muttered, but Sara noted that praise also came with his disapproval.

The Dodger came up to a bakery with a stand outside the door. He saw the man who was selling the bread on it walk inside, and he quickly snatched up a loaf and walked away. The man came out almost right after, and the Dodger was a good few shops away before the man yelled, "Police! Thief!"

The Dodger didn't run, knowing he hadn't been spotted yet. He frantically looked around for a place to hide, or a side street to turn down. But the street went straight both ways, with only shops that were packed closely together. Now he wouldn't be able to get away. The Dodger panicked, and tried to think as the man cried, "He took off that way! Thief!"

He turned to Sara, and led her to the side of the shop. "They 'aven't seen me yet." He tried to explain, his heart racing even more about what he was about to do then the traps chasing him. She gave him a puzzled look, but he only saw it for a moment as he turned himself to having his back resting against the front of the shop, and put his arm around her waist and one behind her head, and softly kissed her.

Sara's heart pounded, as did the Dodger's, as their fear melted away and their eyes closed. Sara's arms instinctively went around his neck, and their heads were both spinning, barely hearing the traps run past them, lost in their own world. A moment later, when they broke off the kiss and reluctantly opened their eyes, still wrapped in each other's arms.

"I think we lost 'em," the Dodger smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

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Six

The Dodger and Sara had continued as they always had, acting as if their kiss had never happened, but it always seemed very real to the both of them. Soon enough, it was Christmas, and the boys had insisted that Sara come over for dinner.

Of course, after dinner involved all the boys going over to the tab, which was closed for the holidays, so they could see Bet and dance and drink.

All the boys got a half pint of gin, Bet refusing to give any of them an ounce more. Then Sara and Bet sang and danced, reminding Charlie, Fagan and the Dodger about when Nancy was alive – it especially seemed that way with Sara in Nancy's favourite red dress.

In a few minutes, Bet's husband-to-be came, and with a broad grin, handed some of the boys instruments. They played while the boys stomped on the floor, and Bet, grinning, took her fiancée's arm out onto the open space that they had cleared of tables and benches.

Quickly lighting on his chance, the Dodger held out his arm, and smiling, Sara took it. Dance after dance, Sara stomped on the floor daintily and danced with all the boys, but the Dodger more often than any.

At eleven thirty, Sara's eyes hit the clock, and she gasped and stood rooted to the spot, as the boys continued to dance, and then stopped as they noticed her. Sara quickly bustled around the room, gathering up her handbag and shawl, and eventually pausing. "I'm – I'm sorry, but I must go –" she finished, unable to think of a proper ending.

The boys all nodded and continued to dance, as the music started back up. The Dodger scooped up his coat, and followed Sara into the chilly, snowy night after she had said her goodbyes to Bet.

He hurried out the door after her, and pulled his coat on to block the muffled winter chill. The streets were uncharacteristically quiet, and with the soft snow falling in the moonlit streets, he caught up to her.

"I'll come with you."

They laughed on the way through the lower city, passing many brightly lit buildings. As they came to the edges, they stopped in their usual place to say their goodbyes.

As the snow fell on Sara's dark hair, she looked up at him through her eyelashes and said, "Happy Christmas, Dodger."

The Dodger responded as such. "'Appy Christmas."

As they stared into each other's eyes, they both suddenly looked up. And they both noticed a sprig of mistletoe, right above their heads.

They looked deep into each other's eyes, and leaned in, and with the snow falling softly all around them, the Dodger kissed Sara gently, holding her close.


	7. Chapter 7

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Seven

"Well, if whatever fellow she's been sneaking off to see doesn't propose to her soon, I might have to stop her from seeing him out of respect for the family." Grumbled Sara's great aunt to one of her friends. "Heavens, if it gets out that I've been letting her sneak out at all . . . I thought by Christmas he would've proposed! And she's been missing so many parties!" she sniffed.

"Oh, give him time! It'll be soon though, mark my words. You can't hold her back now, right when she'll be close to getting off your hands, and becoming a respectable wife. Then she'll give up all that business that's better left to men." Assured another lady, noticing how grumpy her friend was. "After all, she's sneaking out far more often now. And as soon as they get married and have a few children, she'll be _far _too busy to continue with this ridiculous campaign."

"Goodness, yes." Sara's aunt sighed. "As long as she gives up this nonsense and becomes a wife soon. Otherwise, I _will_ put a stop to this. Mark my words."

In the mirror, Sara could see the reflection of herself, in a gorgeous turquoise gown. She smiled brilliantly, approving of her reflection. Sara had tried on every dress in her closet, the simple and the extravagant; fretting over what the Dodger would like the most on her. She had eventually settled on this new dress, because it was the most exquisite, beautiful, and simple dress she owned.

Sara pulled out a long, dark blue coat. It would completely cover her dress, and hide her wealth from the people of the lower city. Looking into her reflection, she thought about the night she had spent lying awake, in excitement after Christmas Eve. She had given the Dodger, as well as her life and what she wanted from her future a great deal of thought that night. Sara pulled back her hair and put in two pale pearl earrings into her ears, smiling and remembering. That night, she had decided that she was in love with the Dodger. Sara knew that he may well have another girl, but she also knew that she was not a person to go down without a fight. She smiled again, tapping into a narrow strain of emotion at the back of her heart that thought that he might just love her back. She knew that he was the only person she had ever met that made her feel like more than just a pretty face, and he was the only person she wanted to give the rest of her life to.

Over the evening noise, the boys could still hear the knocking on the door. They quieted down at the sound, smiling to each other. They knew it would be either Sara or the Dodger, as they saw each other many days a week now. They heard the Dodger's voice call his name, and a smiling Charlie opened the door.

"'Ow was your day?" Grinned Charlie, knowing that the Dodger would know what he really meant by that statement.

"No, I 'aven't seen Sara yet." The Dodger grumbled, hanging up his hat. The weather was dreadful, as the snow melted and the rain poured down.

"Well, some'un ain't too 'appy, is 'e?" Charlie countered mischievously.

"Someone isn't too happy about what?" Sara asked as she entered, shedding her long, soaking coat to reveal a beautiful turquoise gown that had been hidden under it.

As the Dodger opened his mouth to reply, his breath was caught in his throat. _Sara looks beautiful._ He thought, completely forgetting himself in awe, and smiling inwardly at his knowledge that she was not only beautiful, but an amazing person.

Charlie responded before the Dodger could collect himself, breaking into his best friend's stupor. "Dodger misses you, Lady Sara." He said with a wicked grin, and then dodged the Dodger's half-hearted attempt at cuffing him across the side of the head, and winked at Sara as he walked away.

The Dodger stood up and turned to Sara, to see her smiling. "I missed you too." She replied, and kissed him. For a moment the Dodger was in shock. Sara was rarely so outright with anything, much less her hidden feelings for the Dodger. The Dodger kissed her back after a moment, pushing away the warning at the back of his mind.

Charlie grinned from across the room, and hurried to make sure that none of the boys distracted them.

Sara pulled away and smiled inwardly, glad of her previous decision. Then her smile faltered, remembering what she had overheard just before she sneaked out.

"Wha'?" asked the Dodger, suddenly painfully aware of how he should not have kissed Sara, and also aware of her faltering smile.

"I was just . . . remembering something." At the change of the Dodger's blue eyes, she quickly continued, in case he had thought that their kiss had made her remember something about him that had made her smile falter. "I heard it on my way out," she continued, and the Dodger's blue eyes made a different change. She now saw worry. "My great aunt, she was going to begin to make it harder for me to sneak away. She knows." She said quietly.

Sara saw a flare of panic flash across the Dodger's face, and she quickly continued again. "No, no, she doesn't know about this, or you." The Dodger visibly calmed, and again an anxious flare flew across his face, worried about Sara.

"Then wha' does she know? Or wha' does she think she knows?"

"She thinks I'm sneaking off to see some young man, as you know. But . . ." she faltered for a moment.

The Dodger gently replied. "It's alright. You can tell me."

Sara's eyes glued themselves to the floor, as she mentioned a topic they both had thought about in depth, but not spoken to each other about. "She thought that the man I had been going to see would have asked me to marry him by now." She took a deep breath, glad that she had quickly mentioned it, and it was mostly over. "She thinks that since he hasn't proposed yet, he plans to elope with me, since I'm always sneaking out." She grimaced and looked up at the Dodger, feeling that the topic of marriage was almost over with, and she could remove her eyes from the floor. "She doesn't want me to _shame the family_." Sara finished with disgust.

The Dodger's breath was caught in his throat again. His love was right in front of him, wearing the most beautiful dress ever, and mentioning marriage. _I can't breathe._ He thought. His heart sank as he thought of that. They could never wed. _With 'er Great Aunt, she would be disowned, and what would a life o' this filth be for a toff like 'er? _He thought, dismissing the topic, and severing his connection with his emotions, so that he could once again breathe.

"Well then, wha' do you think you'll be doin now?" The Dodger asked.

Sara bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I suppose I can't come as often now, and until I decide on a better plan, I guess I will have to sneak out through the servant's exit." She glanced up at the Dodger, and then smiled. "But for tonight, we can just forget about that. I'm already out now, and I need to get my mind off of all that." Sara smiled up at him again, and she saw something behind his eyes, despite his easy stance and smile.


	8. Chapter 8

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Eight

Sara looked out her window at the slushy melting snow and sighed. She felt a dull ache in her chest, despite her excitement about the meeting she was to attend. She hadn't seen the Dodger in weeks, and she missed him. She had tried to sneak out twice, but both times she had been caught and reprimanded. All the exits of their estate were watched.

Sara sighed, and rested her forehead and a hand against the glass pane. "Dodger," she whispered. "Oh, Dodger. I miss you." She bit her lip. "Miss me too." She asked softly, and stared into the streets for another moment.

Pulling herself together, Sara stood up and walked to the mirrors in her room, appraising her coral pink gown. _Come on Sara, _she thought. _There's no use moping. Now put on a smile, there you go. Think happy. You don't need the Dodger to be happy, despite the fact you miss him._

_And I love him, _the back part of her mind put in, and she smiled at herself in the mirror, her reflection concealing the internal strength she had tapped into that was at the core of her being.

A knock came to the door, and feeling very ready to get out of her room, she opened the door, and then entered the hallway to speak with the servant who told her that it was time to go.

Sara stepped out of the building amidst the throng of people heading to carriages, and grinned broadly. She looked into the streets, and all of a sudden, she was hit with an idea. _The person you want to share this with the most is the Dodger, right?_ She asked herself. _This is your chance. _

Ignoring the hoards of people washing into the streets, she quickly crossed the road and turned down a side street before anyone noticed. Alive with the thrill of what she was doing, every step that took her away from the carriage that was waiting for her felt like a step away from captivity and towards freedom. She buttoned up her light coat, because though she felt refreshed by the chill of the April afternoon, she knew she had to hide her pale purple gown that was run through with silver thread because it marked her clearly as a person of higher station.

Sara walked the bright, noisy streets that she knew so well, and had missed so dearly. She rushed to the door of the Dodger's home, and she paused before the door as she had the first night she was brought there.

Not only from the excitement of what had happened and the exertion of her long walk after nothing but tea parties for a month, was Sara's heart beating fast. She breathed deeply in the attempt to slow her heart, and she knocked twice and called out her name. From behind the door, she heard footsteps.

The Dodger grinned unashamedly at the sight of her, and held open the door as she walked inside. "Sara!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see ya, but yer lucky I was here. You caught me on me day off, you did." He grinned again. "You 'aven't been 'ere in too long! But wha' is it, you look like yer about to split yer face open with a smile that wide!"

"Oh, Dodger, it's so exciting!" Sara cried, her eyes dancing with his. "The campaign – we've finally gotten somewhere! Something's going to happen soon, we're finally going to get to do something! Oh, I come because I had to tell you, but I'm sorry, I can't stay for long, even though it is so good to see you! I've got to do more planning, and prepare for my next meeting! After all, I am one of the heads of our campaign, and –"

The Dodger was still smiling, but his eyes were no longer dancing, though his voice was convincing. "At's wonderful. I 'ope it all goes well. I ain't jokin'. I know this means more than anythin' to ya."

Sara looked up into his eyes, and saw the sadness in them. She took off her coat, and sat down on a rail. "Oh." She said quietly. And suddenly, she realized that as important as the campaign was to her, and as important making a difference was to her, there was something that had become equally, if not more important, to her. The Dodger sat down on a stool across from her, and took her hand, upset to see her so dismayed. "Wha' is it?" he asked quietly.

Sara looked up at him, and tried to focus on something other than his hands holding hers. The light coming in from the grimy window to her right splayed beams of light across his concerned face and dark hair.

"I just realized." She said quietly, looking back down into her lap. "I – I will be terribly busy now. Even if I could still sneak out, I wouldn't be able to see you. And I – I don't know how long that will last, I–" Sara looked up, and was abruptly cut off by his lips on hers. She kissed him back, but after a moment, she pulled away, trying to suppress the lump that was building in her throat. "I don't know how long this will take, when I'm not able to see you. This could take months, years! I –" Sara paused, her heart thumping in her chest as she continued to speak quietly. Now she looked into the Dodger's eyes, and said softly, "I don't want to wait that long." Sara bit her lip. "I – I love you Dodger."

The Dodger felt the sadness he always felt when he knew he would have to let Sara go, but felt also that he wanted to have this one moment to remember of her. "I love you too." He said gently, and took her chin in his hands and kissed her softly, but his stomach churned. He knew she could never be his.

"But once ya said to me that the campaign was the most impor'ant thing in the world to ya. I can' let you leave it. It's yer dream. An' you won' be doin' much good by going and givin' up on yer dreams."

Sara's eyes glazed over, and she looked into her lap. "Dodger, you needn't say more." She stood up. "If you wish me to leave, you must simply say so and be done with it."

"Sara." Shocked, the Dodger took Sara's hand as she turned away towards the door. "'Ow could you possibly think _that?_"

Sara turned back to the Dodger, and met his eyes. They were only inches from hers. "So you say you love me?" she asked, a fire burning in her eyes. "Then –" Sara stopped, and took a step back. "Do you know what, this is silly. I never should have come. I'm sorry. You won't see me again." Then she opened the door, and did not look back as tears spilled down her cheeks, and she turned a corner and broke into a run.

After feeling like she was a safe distance from the Dodger, Sara let the tears flow down her face. She sobbed into her hands as she walked, thinking how now, as important as the campaign was to her. There was one thing more important. "Oh Dodger." She whispered through her sobs, and held her head high as tears blurred her vision and fell heavily down her cheeks.

"Oh, I've really made a mess of this one, haven't I." the Dodger muttered to himself, a moment after Sara had swept out the door. Then his eyes alighted on the coat Sara had left behind, and sweeping it up into his arms, tried to follow where she had gone. In the springtime slush, he could still see some of her recent tracks, her footprints smaller than most others in the dirty, half-melted snow.

"Sara!" the Dodger called, and ran quickly through the alleyways and streets. "Sara!" The Dodger turned a corner, and called, "Sar –" but then he broke off, seeing the shivering, well-dressed, upright shape of Sara, shaking with cold and tears.

He ran down the alley, and settled Sara's coat around her shoulders, and steered her shaking form into his arms. "Oh Sara, I'm so sorry." He whispered as she sobbed into his chest. "That wa'nt what I meant to say." The Dodger took a deep breath and stroked her hair. "What I ment to say was, 'onestly, if I had the money to give you a proper life, I would be asking you to marry me on the spo', if I was respectable, and you wou'n't be disowned and left wit' nothing for marryin' me." He sighed wearily, and closed his eyes. "You don't know how much I wish that. And fer the longest time, I tried to deny that I was in love with you, so tha' I would never have to lose you like this. Tha's wot I really mean."

Sara pulled back a little from his arms, and he quickly pulled out an old, but clean, handkerchief. He gently wiped the tears from her eyes, then folded it over her nose, and told her to blow. Blinking and smiling, Sara looked up at him. "Oh, Dodger." She whispered, and rested her head against his chest. "I love you. The campaign does mean so much to me, but there is one thing that has become more important to me." She smiled up at him. "You. Dodger, I love you! And yes, my great aunt could disown me, but that wouldn't cut off my inheritance!"

The Dodger's brows knit together, and Sara continued to answer his unspoken question. "My inheritance is from my parents! When they died, my father left me all his money when I turned sixteen in his will, married or not! And for the campaign – well, I'm their leader, but I have an incredibly competent second in command, and I could help her to lead the campaign, without actually having to go to meetings or attend anything, and –"

Sara was cut off once again by a kiss. Sara pulled away gently, and looked into the Dodger's eyes. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Well," the Dodger began, "I woul' never be accepted by respec'able folk. And I all seems extremely selfish on my par' to take you away from such a life of finery. Are you sure that this is wha' you want?"

"But Dodger!" Sara said quietly. "I never _wanted_ any of that! All that money and fine clothes keeps women as hemmed in as if we were in cages. I hate it, and would never have chosen that life for myself." Her look turned shy now. "And besides, I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I've never wanted anything so much as this."

The Dodger paused, and looked at Sara. It still made him feel strange, but a pleasant feeling of strangeness when she spoke the words _I love you. You idiot, _he thought. _The girl you love is right in front of you, tellin' you she wants to spend the rest of your life with 'er! Stop making excuses and do something right for once! _

The Dodger took Sara's hands, and in the wet slush, fell to one knee in the middle of lower city London. "Sara." He began. "I love you, and I know that I don't have a ring, but if you want one, you can 'ave one. Would you do me the incre'ible 'onour of marryin' me?" 

Walking back to Fagan's Charlie smiled, stumbling upon the scene. "Abou' time!" he muttered, grinning from down the alleyway. He smiled as he watched the Dodger take Sara's hands, go down to one knee. As tears ran down Sara's face, he picked her up and spun her around, their laughter echoing through the streets as Charlie broke into a run to announce to everyone that there was to be a wedding.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

A few months later, a bakery opened on Elm Street. It wasn't in the upper part of town, but it wasn't on the lower side of London, either. It was right in the middle. Ownership belonged to a young couple, who went by the names of Mr. and Mrs. Dodger. All day, they baked bread and sold it, and the shop was immensely popular.

Their wedding had taken place very recently, at a small church that perfectly suited everybody. It was not reported about, but it was an occasion, to be sure. There was a small group of high society women with modernistic views, some very old friends, and strangely, a large amount of young boys cheering loudly.

They were incredibly happy with each other, and with their way of life. In a few weeks, young Mrs. Dodger will tell her husband that she is expecting, and in the years to come their children would give them great joy. And if ever a young, dirty lad from the street tried to steal anything, the Mr. or Mrs. would always ask them quietly about their parents, and if they wished to have somewhere to sleep in the company of other children their age, and a certain Mr. Fagin.

On their wedding anniversary in years to come, their children would always beg to hear the same story, and with a twinkle in his eyes, Mr. Dodger would always tell his children about how, one day, he followed an extraordinary woman into an alleyway to steal her money, and ended up with more than he could've ever imagined. But when they would ask their mother to hear the story, she would sit quietly, and hold them riveted with her account of the Artful Dodger.


End file.
